Jurors increasingly are sending loud messages
of censure with megabuck verdicts. But critics charge that a jury is
the least qualified body to decide public policy.
BY MARK CURRIDEN
Diane Leininger is no maverick or
activist. At 50, she works as an interior designer, while her
husband is a salesman for a pharmaceutical company. They live in the
quiet Florida coastal town of Delray Beach.
But on Jan. 4, 2000, Leininger and five other
Palm Beach County citizens decided that they had seen enough and
were determined to send a message they hoped would dramatically
change how health care is administered in this country.
For more than a month, Leininger was a juror in
a case in which the parents of 9-year-old Caitlyn Chipps, who
suffered from cerebral palsy, sued their insurance carrier, Humana
Health Care, for repeatedly denying payment for their daughter’s
treatments.
“We were stunned by the testimony,” Leininger
says. “The company sent bonus checks to claims reviewers who saved
the company money by denying the most medical claims for patients.
And the company made its claims process so egregious and difficult
just to increase their chances that families would eventually give
up seeking reimbursement for treatments rather than continuing to
fight to get their money.”
The most disturbing revelation, according to
Leininger, was that this practice wasn’t unique to Humana but rather
a course of conduct for many major health maintenance
organizations.
“That’s when we decided we had to send a message
that would get not only Humana’s attention but the attention of
every HMO out there,” she says.
Their verdict: $79.6 million, the largest damage
award ever handed down in an individual case in Palm Beach
County.
A spokeswoman for Humana called the verdict
“erroneous and excessive.” The company is appealing the
judgment.
Legal analysts say the Humana jury reflects a
growing trend among jurors to use their power to demand societal
changes that reach far beyond the specific case in which they are
involved.
During the past two decades, the clout of the
American jury and the authority it wields have grown to historic
levels, according to judges, lawyers and law professors.
Like no time before, the 12 people seated in the
jury box regularly demonstrate an increasing willingness—even a
clamoring—to force basic American institutions, such as government,
business and even private social organizations, to change the way
they operate.
Trial lawyers and state attorneys general,
recognizing the new pro-active attitude, are capitalizing on the
trend by asking juries to use individual cases to make monumental
decisions that impact entire industries or even establish de facto
public policy, legal experts say.
A Really Hard
Line
Consider these recent
examples:
• Last year, a jury in Miami issued a $144
billion punitive damage verdict against the major tobacco companies.
The jurors said their verdict was designed to force the cigarette
makers to change how they do business or go bankrupt.
• Jurors in Canton, Texas, handed down a $23.3
million judgment in August 1999 against pharmaceutical maker
American Home Products for withholding evidence about the dangers of
the diet drug Fen-phen. Following the decision, jurors said they
wanted pharmaceutical companies to change their policies regarding
disclosure of health risks to the public. The verdict led to a
national, multibillion dollar settlement.
• A New York jury in 1999 told 15 U.S. gun
makers to pay the families of seven crime victims $560,000. The
panel found that the companies intentionally marketed their products
in a way that they should have known would promote illegal gun
distribution. While the verdict is on appeal, it fueled dozens of
similar lawsuits still pending. It also convinced manufacturer Smith
& Wesson to reach a settlement in its cases by agreeing to
historic changes in the way it does business.
• In 1998, a Dallas jury awarded the family of a
young child $62 million after the family’s medical insurer, an HMO,
refused to pay for needed medical care. Members of the jury said the
award was designed to tell HMOs they must stop putting profits ahead
of medical care.
• Similarly, in January 2000, a West Palm Beach,
Fla., jury ordered Humana Inc. to pay $80 million in punitive
damages to the family of a 9-year-old girl with cerebral palsy after
the HMO denied doctor-recommended treatments for her. Lawyers in the
litigation viewed the verdict as an indicator that the public is
unhappy with the status of managed care and health
insurance.
“Our founding fathers would be stunned and
dismayed to learn of the issues that today’s juries are deciding,”
says Frank Newton, dean of the Texas Tech University School of
Law.
“Are guns unsafe? Are HMOs putting profits ahead
of health? Are police using racial profiling in drug stops? Are our
schools and churches doing enough to protect our children? Are our
nursing homes properly treating our grandparents?”
Newton and other legal experts say that each of
these cases involved major public policy questions that Congress and
state legislatures failed to address. Frustrated by the lack of
action, activists have taken their causes to court seeking relief
from what they hope will be sympathetic juries.
And legal analysts say the 12 people in the jury
box are frequently identifying with the activists and issuing
verdicts that they believe will lead to change.
“I think we are witnessing the emergence of an
activist jury pool,” says University of Georgia law professor Ron
Carlson. “People are frustrated by the inaction of the other
branches of government and realize that, as jurors, they hold
incredible powers of change and they are ready and willing to wield
them.
“Juries have always held immense power in our
system of self-government, but only in recent years have jurors
learned to use it,” says Carlson.
A 16-month study by The Dallas Morning News
and the Southern Methodist
University Law Review identified
more than 700 cases since 1990 in which jurors stated publicly that
they intended their verdicts to have impact beyond their individual
cases.
Between 1970 and 1990, the study found fewer
than 100 such cases. In the 70 years prior, researchers identified
only 17 cases in which jurors indicated they wanted their verdicts
to have some kind of broader influence.
In addition, a survey of nearly 1,000 trial
judges in Texas and federal judges nationwide by the Morning News and the
SMU Law Review found that nearly half have had cases in which jurors
used their verdict to send a message about a broader
issue.
“Today’s jurors come to court angry and full of
biases, and they are exacting revenge,” says Victor Schwartz, a
nationally recognized litigation expert and general counsel of the
American Tort Reform Association. “I don’t like it and don’t think
that it’s healthy, but there’s no question it’s
happening.”
DePaul University law professor Stephen
Landsman, an expert on the role of the jury in American culture,
agrees that deciding social and public policy through jury verdicts
is a lousy way of governing.
“Juries are so unpredictable and cumbersome,” he
says. “Yet, when no one else has the courage to address the truly
controversial issues and problems of our time, juries over and over
have shown a willingness and ability to roll up their sleeves, study
the facts and come to conclusions.”
No Rational
Basis
Even so, leaders of corporate America say that we are
asking too much of jurors to decide issues that even scientists
disagree on.
“We are now asking ignorant juries to make
decisions on which scientists make the most sense,” says William
Lytton, general counsel and senior vice president at International
Paper. “Does smoking cause cancer? Do silicone implants cause
disease? Do electric power lines emit radiation and cause
cancer?
“Juries are the least informed, the least
represented and the least qualified body to determine public
policy,” he says. “For 12 people to put Philip Morris out of
business, what is next? Will 12 people decide fatty foods are
inappropriate and put McDonalds out of business? That is a very
undemocratic and potentially dangerous result.”
Harvard law professor E. Kip Viscusi, who
specializes in economics, argues that those jurors who punish
companies via punitive damage awards actually have little or no
positive impact on society.
In a recent study funded by Exxon, Viscusi found
no safety or environmental differences between states that allow
punitive damages and states that don’t.
“Thus, there is no deterrence benefit that
justifies the chaos and economic disruption inflicted by punitive
damages,” he wrote.
However, the Morning News and the
SMU Law Review study identified more than 250 cases in which jury
verdicts led to some change.
Those changes ranged from corporations recalling
potentially dangerous products and manufactur-ers modifying how they
dispose of waste, to businesses reforming how they treat their
employees and police departments rewriting rules on car chases and
excessive force.
“Don’t tell me that juries don’t make a
difference, because the evidence contradicts that,” says Stephen
Daniels, a research fellow for the American Bar Foundation. “The
anecdotal evidence is pretty overwhelming.”
Daniels and other analysts point to the Dalkon
Shield, the Ford Pinto, asbestos, Fen-phen and other products that
companies have removed from the marketplace or fixed following jury
verdicts.
True, trial lawyers have long asked juries to
use their verdicts to send messages. But legal historians say that
prior to the 1980s, those pleas mostly fell on deaf ears.
“There have been scattered jury verdicts
throughout history where jurors were outraged and sent some
political message,” says Bill Nelson, an expert on the history of
the American jury system and a law professor at New York University.
“But those traditionally have been few and far between,” he says.
“Until now.”
Nullification in
Order
Most of the early
examples of jurors demonstrating their independence came in
so-called jury nullification in criminal cases involving William
Penn in England or John Peter Zenger in New York. In those matters,
jurors simply refused to find people guilty if they didn’t like the
law or felt law enforcement was overreaching.
But the practice is even more widespread today.
For example, jurors in Atlanta in the mid-1990s started acquitting
sports bookmaking defendants on a regular basis, even though such
cases were usually slam dunks. In post-trial interviews, jurors said
they saw no moral difference between sports betting and playing the
Georgia lottery.
In Dallas, jurors started digging in their heels
in 1999 in cases involving lewd dancing. The revolt began, according
to lawyers, in a case in which there was little doubt that the women
had danced closer to patrons than allowed by law.
The jury in one case
publicly criticized police for wasting taxpayers’ money
investigating and prosecuting what amounted to victimless crimes.
The jurors’ statements made news and soon other juries in similar
cases were refusing to convict.
“Now, when a dancer decides to fight these cases
to a jury, they almost always win,” says Houston lawyer Mike Maness.
“It’s absolutely a case of jurors telling police this is not
appropriate public policy.”
Tom Charron, director of
the National District Attorneys Advocacy Center, says jury
nullification isn’t always bad. He says there are thousands of
outdated laws still on the books that could and might still be
prosecuted were it not for the willingness of jurors to refuse to
convict.
“Today’s jurors are not used to being told what
to do,” Charron says. “They take their personal beliefs into the
jury room and they are more willing to act on those
beliefs.”
The first significant example of jurors sending
a message in a civil case surfaced in 1962. Texan John Henry Faulk,
a famous radio and television personality, sued when he was
blacklisted after being identified by Aware Inc., a political action
group, as being sympathetic to communism.
A New York jury ordered Aware to pay Faulk $3.5
million, which at the time was the largest damage award in history.
The jury’s verdict effectively put Aware out of business and ended
institutional blacklisting by those who claimed to be experts on
communism.
Legal analysts say the real trend toward juror
activism in political, cultural and social issues had its birth in
Jackson, Miss., in 1982.
That’s when East Texas trial lawyer Scottie
Baldwin sued an asbestos maker for a client’s lung disease. There
had been scores of previous suits against the makers of asbestos,
but most jurors had awarded only small damages to plaintiffs or
found in favor of the defendants.
But this time, jurors reacted angrily to
evidence of intentional misconduct by the corporate defendants
Johns-Mansville and Raybestos-Manhattan. The panel awarded $1
million in punitive damages to James Jackson of Pascagoula.
The verdict spawned thousands more lawsuits and
prompted Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist to ask Congress to take
action. When that didn’t happen, jury verdicts continued to pour in
and billion-dollar companies were forced out of business.
Then came tobacco. As with asbestos, juries
declined to punish cigarette makers for decades. The tide turned in
August 1996 when a jury in Jacksonville, Fla., heard the case of
Grady Carter, who developed lung cancer after 44 years of smoking
Lucky Strike cigarettes.
The jury, after hearing evidence that the
industry had conspired for decades to lie about the dangers of
smoking, found the cigarettes were “unreasonably dangerous and
defective” and ordered Brown & Williamson Tobacco Co. to pay
$750,000. The company paid that judgment to Carter in March 2001
after the Florida Supreme Court upheld the jury’s
decision.
While tobacco giants Philip Morris and R.J.
Reynolds weren’t defendants in that suit, officials at both
companies say the jury’s decision resonated throughout their
corporate offices.
“It was definitely a wake-up call,” says Philip
Morris vice president Steve Parrish.
After winning every jury trial for four decades,
suddenly the gates opened.
“If you have a defective product, and you know
it’s defective and kills people but you keep selling it because
people are addicted to it and it makes you billions of dollars, then
that is just pathetic,” says Michael Criscola. Criscola is a pizza
parlor operator and the foreman of a San Francisco jury that slapped
Philip Morris and R.J. Reynolds tobacco companies with a $20 million
judgment in March.
“I found it shocking that these companies
behaved in such a disgraceful manner and that the government has
allowed them to get away with it,” he says.
In the Miami case that resulted in the $144
billion verdict, lawyers for the industry told jurors in closing
arguments that the tobacco companies got the message from other jury
verdicts over the past four years.
The lawyers told the jury that because of those
earlier verdicts, they had reformed how they do business and that
they don’t need to be punished any more.
“It’s a startling admission from a powerful
industry that jury verdicts do have an impact and can induce
substantial changes,” says University of Wisconsin law professor
Marc Galanter. He says it was the fear of juries that sparked the
tobacco indus- try to settle lawsuits brought by 41 state attor-
neys general for $246 billion.
Similarly, lawyers for gun manufacturer Smith
& Wesson say it was a jury verdict last year that led it to
agree to historic changes in how it does business.
The case involved the families of seven shooting
victims who sued 25 gun makers for negligence in marketing their
products in a manner that fueled illegal gun trading.
The Brooklyn jury deliberated for nearly a week,
debating internally how their verdict would be viewed by the
public.
On Feb. 11, 1999, the jurors returned a judgment
of $560,000 against 15 of 25 gun manufacturers—the first such
verdict in the nation. The verdict is on appeal.
“We really debated wheth.er it was our job to
send some message,” says a Brooklyn man who served on the jury. “In
the end, we decided, if not us, who? Nobody else was saying this is
wrong and we believed it was wrong.”
Spurred by the jury’s decision, some 24 cities
subsequently sued the gun makers making the same allegations. Some
of those suits are expected to be presented to juries in the next
year.
Even though Smith & Wesson was one of the 10
companies found not liable by the jury, lawyers for the gun maker
say the jury’s verdict emphasized just how vulnerable the industry
is.
They privately admit that the Brooklyn jury was
a major contributing factor in the company’s decision to settle its
lawsuits with a handful of cities.
Following the Brooklyn verdict, a few jurors
explained their unhappiness to the lawyers for the gun
makers.
“We told them our verdict expressed our opinion
that the industry is not being as responsible as it should be,” says
one juror, who asked not to be identified.
Indeed, judges say that jur- ors are
increasingly sending written messages with their monetary awards
that seek to encourage some kind of reform.
That’s exactly what happened on July 24, 1997,
in a fourth floor Dallas courtroom. Jurors heard several weeks of
testimony that leaders of the Dallas Catholic Diocese knew for years
that one of its priests was sexually abusing young parishioners but
did nothing about it.
In the deliberation room, the jurors decided
they needed to send two messages—just to make sure their voice was
heard clearly.
The first statement came
in the form of a $119.6 million judgment against the church. But
then the jurors issued a letter they read in open court in front of
the bishop and the news media.
The note said that the church needed to make
“significant changes to [its] policies in regard to child
abuse.”
“Just in case the diocese didn’t understand
exactly what message we were sending through the $119 million
verdict, we decided to make it extra clear to them,” says presiding
juror Susan Koons, a 55-year-old housewife who delivered the message
from her seat in the jury box.
Never Again
“We wanted to say to the
religious community—but especially to the Catholic Diocese—that this
must stop and never be allowed to happen again,” says
Koons.
“The message we intended to send was not just
meant for the Dallas Catholic Diocese but for church-es
everywhere—that they are not properly supervising their priests and
pastors,” Koons says.
Lawyers in the case agree that the jury’s
verdict led to substantial reforms within the church. The verdict
also led prosecutors to file criminal charges against the priest.
The civil case settled a few months after the judgment.
“Changes have been made,” says Randal Mathis, a
Dallas lawyer who defended the diocese. “There is absolutely no
doubt that the diocese received the jury’s message very, very
clearly.”
As for Koons, she hopes the verdict caused other
churches and private groups that deal with kids on a regular basis
to re-examine their policies regarding child abuse.
“Every day, I look in the newspaper for two
things: I look in the obituaries to see if one of those poor kids
has killed himself, and I scour the paper to see if any other
churches are having similar problems.
“I pray that pastors and priests and rabbis
remember our verdict and work hard to make sure this never happens
again,” she says.
Impetus for Change
A study by The
Dallas Morning News and the Southern Methodist University Law
Review last year identified more than 250
cases where a jury verdict prompted some form of corporate,
governmental or societal change. Here is a sampling of those cases
over the past two decades:
• An $8.8 million jury verdict in 1994 led
Johnson & Johnson to put warning labels on Tylenol disclosing
that mixing the drug with alcohol can cause liver
problems.
• In 1993, a jury ordered Kubota to pay $3.3
million for making a tractor that frequently flipped over. The
company recalled the tractor after the jury’s decision.
• Days after a jury in 1996 ordered American
Airlines to pay $20 million because its electronic billboards on the
highway leading to the Dallas-Fort Worth airport were found to be
extremely dangerous for motorists, the airline took down the
billboards.
• Eli Lilly in 1985 removed an arthritis
pain-relief medication from the market after a jury issued a $6
million judgment against the pharmaceutical company for failing to
inform physicians that the drug caused fatal kidney and liver
problems in some people.
• A jury in 1980 issued a $1 million judgment
against Dayton Hudson for making children’s pajamas that frequently
caught fire when too close to heating devices. Following the
verdict, the company stopped making the clothes.
• In 1986, the Bassett Furniture Co. recalled
thousands of cribs after a jury awarded $475,000 because several
infants accidentally hanged themselves on the headboard.
Mark Curriden, a reporter for The Dallas Morning News, is
the co-author of Contempt of Court.